


'Memoirs of an English Duchess'

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17520830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: There was an explosive new book soon to be released, and everyone was talking about what might be revealed in that 'Memoirs of an English Duchess'.  Speculation ran rampant, the potential ramifications setting about some panicked reactions.  Rest assured, this book was going to shake things up, whether at Haven, at The Cottages in Brandonshire, in society at large, and even at the Palace.  Peter Newkirk is ducking for cover, Andrew is getting a certain look in his eye (one that makes PETER very nervous!), Goniff is getting a look in HIS eye as well (that one that makes EVERYONE nervous), and that's just the beginning!





	'Memoirs of an English Duchess'

According to the newspapers and the gossips and many others there was an explosive new book soon to be released. The social world was all atwitter. The Duchess of ******** had written a tell-all, highly provocative memoir that had half the men and a goodly number of the women of England (and a few other countries as well) in an uproar (along with being in a cold sweat!). 

Oh, her actual name wouldn't be used, but no one had any doubts about who she was! She was in her sixties now (according to her - there were others who placed her a decade or two beyond that), and she seemingly had been rather precocious (though there were other words that many others might, and DID, apply as well) in the area of l'amour, so there were lots and lots of memories to be covered (or UNcovered, as the case was). 

When the news first broke of the Duchess's book, there were many hasty appointments with solicitors, a few with pastoral council, some with emigration services; Canada, Switzerland, Argentina, Australia and the United States all saw a slight uptick in applications. One high-ranking bishop announced his resignation effectively immediately and left for parts unknown. Several members of Parliament went into seclusion, and the Royals had a joint hissy fit. 

The Queen was said to be "not amused" (although the prime confident of the Queen had instructions to get the first copy off the presses, order in a hearty supply of their favorite tipple and be prepared for a jolly good read.) SHE, at least, knew her name wasn't going to appear, at least not in any scandalous manner. There HAD been that one tempting little occasion, but she'd quite wisely declined the invitation. She'd sometimes regretted the necessity for that, (it had been MOST intriguing!) but she knew her duty to her position quite well. 

Her private attitude changed to match her public one when she and Lady ******** read through that 'advance copy' the publisher was kind enough to send her. Lady ******** dodged the thrown volume, even as she scurried to "fetch him to me right now! I'd have him throttled except I want that pleasure for myself! Do you hear me? Fetch him NOW!" 

Lady ******** did as she was told, shaking her head all the while, {"never thought he had it in him, you know!"} suppressing a giggle at that recounting of an adventure {"a 'dainty dish' indeed") she was sure he'd never expected to be 'laid before the Queen'. She made a note to retrieve that thrown volume; after all, they'd not finished it yet.

The film makers (well, not the Americans, of course; much too saucy for their censors, but several of the European markets were giddy with anticipation) were bidding for first-rights before they'd even read the book, which they couldn't yet because it hadn't even been printed (except for four or five, oh, maybe ten or twelve advance copies) and excerpts were being issued only sparingly and to the best advantage. 

The small group of editors and copyists working at the highly-specialized publishing house where the manuscript was purported to being worked on were being wined and dined (all most discreetly, of course), had interesting offers being made for advance information.

They had all been not only warned by their employer against giving out any such information, but promised substantial bonus for NOT releasing any information (other than the carefully prepared tidbits the Duchess and the publisher thought might titillate the public's interest). That didn't stop them from enjoying a few select meals they'd only heard about in some of the culinary and travel books their organization published. And, in case you were wondering, their steadfast loyalty WAS rewarded in the end, so they got a few meals to remember AND that nice bonus, even if it was from a rather . . . Well, more about that later.

And the public's interest was most certainly titillated. Indeed, if it hadn't been coarse, you might have said they were actually drooling!

Meghada and the duchess shared publishers, and she had discovered details the rest of the populace was not yet privy too. She had to grin when she realized this was the same 'black-haired duchess' who'd found a young Peter Newkirk so tempting. (She could hardly fault the duchess for that; after all, Meghada's older sister had found Peter just as tempting, and while Meghada had not fallen prey to the temptation her once-teacher had presented, still she'd well understood the allure!)

Of course, Peter Newkirk would only play a small part of what had obviously been a life lived to the fullest, but that the Duchess remembered him at all and so favorably, that had to be telling. (And 'telling' she certainly was, and there promised to be quite an uproar). 

The question was, just how 'tell-all' really WAS this book? Justin, the publisher had just grinned when Meghada had asked that question in his office over a cup of reinforced coffee. (Meghada had brought the bourbon for the 'reinforcement', knowing Justin didn't stock the good stuff.) 

"As tell-all as will still let me publish it, and that only if it is highly edited! If she has any inhibitions, you couldn't prove it by the parts of the manuscript I've seen so far! And the names? Half of the social register, in one fashion or another, and she certainly didn't limit herself to that portion of society either! The edited version for this country, of course; the unedited version will be much appreciated in some of the more open European countries. Provided the shipment doesn't self-combust in transit! I wonder if Lloyds would be willing to insure it??!"

No matter the social implications, the matter would certainly be discussed at Haven, between Peter and Caeide and Andrew and Maude and Marisol. Peter's sister Mavis would inadvertently let just a bit too much slip to her pursed-lipped husband Ben. And down at the Cottages, the whole notion gets Goniff to thinking, which is ALWAYS a matter of concern.

 

Mavis had read the news of the book in the London paper she subscribed to, and had made mention of it to her husband, Ben, which proved to be a mistake, of course, Ben being who and what he was. Once the son of a Shropshire minister, always the son of a Shropshire minister, it would seem.

He'd pokered up, "I hardly see what could be interesting about such a piece of rubbish! The country should not allow such to be printed and sold in the first place, no matter who is supposedly doing the writing. Bunch of nonsense, anyway, I'm sure. Can't imagine a lady of quality getting up to all that lewd behavior!" 

Mavis had been busy re-reading the article while brewing another pot of tea, {"odd, her a Duchess and to be willling to risk so much for my scamp of a brother. I wonder if she's going to include Peter in that book? Oh good grief! What is Caeide going to say??) teasing her mind for the details of what she remembered, and, being so preoccupied, made her next mistake. 

"Still, imagine there's some worried heads up at Haven right about now. Don't know how Caeide's going to take it, not if the Duchess tells it all straight; could have some fur flying. Bet Peter is trying to keep his head down and out of the line of fire. Caeide always DID have the devil's own temper."

Ben had frowned, "why would your brother, your sister-in-law . . ." and then his eyes had gotten huge. "You don't mean to tell me your brother . . . ??" 

And Mavis couldn't contain that snicker that Ben kept telling her was so low-class but just seemed to suit this occasion.

"Oh, aye, Peter. Quite the talk of the place for awhile, her venturing to the East End EVER so often after he took her fancy, leastwise til she remarried, and even then it was HIM that broke it off. Quite disappointed she was, with that," and then she decided she should probably drop the subject before her highly-conservative husband keeled over.

{"No, no need to tell him all I heard or knew; certainly not what I myself saw. Wasn't just her FANCY my scalawag of a brother took, it seems, and her enjoying every minute of it, at least according to Marisol!"}

 

The duchess who was writing the tell-all memoir had shared a few fond memories with her publisher as she pointed out that one chapter about a young Peter N, resident of London's seamier quarters. Justin had suggested some heavy editing there, but she'd resisted, indignantly.

"I could hardly do that! Truly the best time I've ever had, Justin! Just like a novel, one of the slightly naughty ones, you know, and just the thing for a not-so-recently bereaved widow."

Her eyes grew distant as she remembered those days, a warm smile on her lips.

"I can still see him standing there, Justin, leaning back against a shop wall reading a news sheet, knee bent, one foot on the wall behind him, those trousers showing him to such advantage. A young dark haired street lout, lean, totally self-assured, needing a shave, cigarette dangling from his ever-so-tempting lips. Tough, obviously, and certainly dangerous, but still with a certain air about him, if you know what I mean. I think even YOU would have found him tempting, and I know you prefer women. The most lovely blue-green eyes I've ever seen, and a way of looking at you that just made you start melting inside. I could feel the heat even from my shielded position inside my private conveyance. I hardly imagined him leaving a woman wanting, and oh, I was SO wanting!"

"Clyde had departed the earth almost a year ago at the time, you see, and hadn't been of much use in the bedchamber for a goodly number before, well, ever, really, to be quite honest, and my resources were rather limited on our country estate. And Clyde was MOST reluctant to ever bring me up to London, or to Edinburg, or really ANYWHERE! We rarely had guests, and Clyde was always quite careful to only employ rather unattractive, indeed near elderly, men, though there were one or two who he'd thankfully been quite mistaken in their abilities."

"Yes, I was ready for a bit of adventure, and Peter looked to be JUST what I was ready for. Luckily, he was ready for me too, quite ready. Then, and anytime I managed to slip away."

"The fabric warehouses came to think of me as their patron saint, I believe, I made so many visits! Well, I had to have SOME excuse for my frequent visits to that part of town! I kept my dressmakers busy for a good number of years after with only the most minimal of purchases! I convinced an adjoining furniture warehouse to set up a 'private display room', just for my use, and I changed out the furniture as our needs and interests changed. Oh, I paid dearly for my little adventure, but not to HIM, for he was most adamant about that! HE did the choosing, the agreeing - he was NOT one to be bought! I'd never met anyone like him before, not in that or in many other ways, Justin. Can you imagine, with all I could have offered, him being too proud to accept any of it? It was almost humbling, if you can believe it of me."

"Well, as I said, he was ready, willing, and ever so able, and quite inventive as well, and not in the least shy about trying some of the more adventuresome things I found in that portfolio from Claude's library."

"Why someone with as little interest in the DOING as Claude was, would be so interested in the LOOKING, I'll never know, but that portfolio had been one of Claude's most prized possessions. I'd never gotten any benefit from it before, certainly, but now, it was rapidly becoming one of MY most prized possessions as well. It made the journey to the warehouse district so often I think it might have been able to find its way without my assistance! I even ended up adding in a couple of my own drawings, with instructions, from things Peter introduced me to that were NOT included in that portfolio!"

"Of course, Rupert asking me to marry him was something I could hardly refuse, but I was shocked at how difficult HE'D be about the whole thing, how totally foolish! One wouldn't have thought a young man from that part of town would have such rigid rules about things! No married women indeed!! It was most disheartening, I assure you!"

"Well, I made the right decision, of course; one doesn't turn down marrying a second duke, especially one that close to the throne and with quite THAT much money." 

"But still, Peter was hard to forget; in truth, I never DID forget him, and he came to my mind quite often. Rupert would have perhaps been angry, had he known, but truly he should have been grateful. There's many a night Rupert went to sleep with a smile on his face that was only put there by my placing Peter's face and form over poor Rupert's. Well, there was many a night when the only reason I went to sleep with a smile on MY face was for much the same reason, whether I was accompanied or not."

 

Reactions as an advance copy of the book made its way to Haven:  
.Andrew, eyes wide and eager - "Wow! So, tell me the rest!"  
.Caeide, with a knowing grin, - "Really, Peter? Yes, Andrew is right, we simply MUST hear the rest of it."  
.Maude and Mari, shaking their heads with a joined sigh of amusement, {"ah, that boy!"}  
.Peter, slightly pink in the face, trying hard for casual nonchalance - "Don't see w'at all the fuss is about, just a toss, just like any other! And that portfolio she carried around with 'er; our own Library 'as many a better ones. Course, at the time I thought it was rightly something else. Acourse, did 'ave a few interesting moments, like the time . . ."  
.Andrew, now aglow with an uncomfortable level of enthusiasm, something that was getting Peter more than a little nervous, knowing Andrew as he did - "Wow, Peter! Really?? WOW! Do you think WE might . . .???  
.Peter, definitely nervous now - "Bloody 'ell, Andrew! NO!"

 

At The Cottages:  
"Well, she's made a tidy fortune from the book, even though it's not supposed to be published now for another thirty years. Locked in the vaults til then, they say," Meghada shared over coffee.

Actor had raised a questioning brow, "then how . . .?" Then a knowing smile, "ah, there were most likely any number who were willing to pay quite handsomely to have the publishing delayed so long, with perhaps later payments delaying that even longer?"

"Well, and for the privilege of doing a little judicious editing. Rumor is the Palace nixed a few pages totally, and out of respect for the Crown, she agreed." 

That got her a few incredulous stares, and an outright protest of, "but 'Gaida!"

"Now, laddie, I'm sure it was nothing scandalous, just not wanting any mention at all, you know, for propriety's sake." 

And that got Goniff to thinking about all he and the others had gotten up to over the years, and "wouldn't be surprised if it wouldn't sell more than a few copies too, 'Gaida. Tales of derring-do, tales of lusty encounters, a recounting of our trying out some of the stuff from that swan bed, plus a lot else. You still got the recipe for that raspberry sauce, aint you, luv? And the honey syrup? Could include that along with a few others of your specialities - well, YOUR specialities in the kitchen, plus all OUR 'specialities' elsewhere. Maybe even a few of your more spicy songs. Could call it "W'at's Cookin at the Cottage", and the wicked wiggle of that eyebrow . . . 

Craig wasn't the only one with a moment of sheer incredulity, mixed with absolute horror at the idea. Casino and the others were quickly trying to figure out just what it would cost them NOT to end up in that book, while Meghada was grinning, wondering what she could come up with to adequately distract him from the idea. She was sure she could come up with SOMETHING! 

Then again, he was right, it probably WOULD fetch a pretty penny on the bookstands. Perhaps she should mention the idea to Karl Langenscheidt, Karl Lang - see what he thought of the idea. After all, he was a highly successful writer now, far more well known than she was with just those three books to her (assumed) name. Perhaps they could come up with some joint venture, disguised enough no one would be able to identify them, but still . . .

Garrison looked at her doubtfully later, when Goniff and the others had headed over to The Doves, "nothing scandalous? I don't suppose you are going to tell him about the advance copy YOU managed to get your hands on, an unedited copy? From your description, it didn't sound as if there was anything in there that WASN'T scandalous!" 

She laughed, "no, of course not. He's still a loyal Englishman; would upset him dreadfully, I'm sure, the very thought. Don't need him thinking he needed to dabble his fingers THERE, and you know how impetuous he can be sometimes."

She brushed out her long hair and laughed. 

"Likely have enough excitement over what Peter's likely to be saying, since I know Caeide has her own copy. He got a whole chapter of his own, you know, along with mention in several other places, mostly by comparing a few others to him in a less than complimentary fashion to THEM. I can't see he has much to complain about, other than a few ruffled feathers in areas he'd probably not be so concerned about; her rendition of their time together was easily the most enticing in the entire book."

She laughed again. "Imagine his brother-in-law is having conniptions, though; I understand Peter's sister made the mistake of connecting the dots for him, and he is hardly one of Peter's fans in the first place. And of course, Caeide just laughed about it all, and I could SEE that smirk even through the radio, saying "it's a pity, for the Duchess, of course, that the woman didn't know Peter after he'd really hit his stride! Then she'd have REALLY had something to write about!" And she says Andrew's taken the bit in his teeth, thinking one or two of those episodes sound well worth re-enacting. AND it's got him taking another run through their own Library as well. Says she's heard more "Bloody 'ell, Andrew!!"s since the book arrived than she had in the whole month prior."

Eventually, of course, the time came when it was time for the memoir to be published, though it was well after the death of the duchess. 

Still, there were aplenty with reason not to want it published, even then, and so that second arrangement was put into place, another delay of thirty years. And, as it had for the residuals from the first arrangement (the ones that were issued after the death of that black-haired duchess), the payments made their way to Haven, the duchess having made it clear that the payment for the pleasure he'd brought to her WOULD be paid, whether or no. 

And Peter put his own arrangement in place, that Haven would continue to benefit from that arrangement, even past his own death, should that come first, and the eventual publishing of that memoir (if it ever came to fruition). And the good Haven was able to do, in the rescuing and placing of many children from the East End and elsewhere into good, safe and loving homes, in the alleviating of suffering and misery of others, not just children, was a monument to the Duchess far beyond any she'd gained in any other sphere. Well, a monument to the Duchess, and a young street lout from the East End, one with a prideful, stubborn nature and more talents than most could ever see in him.

And as for that little collaboration beween Karl Lang and Meghada O'Donnell (with the eager assistance of one Cockney pickpocket)? Well, that put a goodly sum into the coffers of The Cottages and that little house at the edge of the forest, and those who lived in those places used those monies for goodly purposes as well. Of course, it also engendered a few exclamations as well, including more than a few "look, you damn fool little Limey! You didn't have to tell them about THAT!!! Sheesh!!!".


End file.
